“All I do is play the Spaceball Ricochet”- a love letter to Marc Bolan

“Your diamond hands will be stacked with roses/And wind and cars and people of the past”


A couple of days ago, I wrote about post about Belle & Sebastian’s Tigermilk. Scroll down. The record blu-tacked next to it on my wall, however, possibly means a little more to me- (hence the central position of it.)


T.Rex, like The Beatles, were a band I came to know through going to see a tribute band with my papa- and both have been groups who’ve pretty much been at the forefront of everything I’ve ever listened to, since I’ve been able to actively make choices in what to listen to (apart from Steps, who really were the first band if I’m honest, but for the sake of the post- let’s be cool and pretend that wasn’t the case.)

An extract from my diary from the day I devoted the rest of my life to The Beatles, reads:

I HAD TO write, I have just realised the most important thing in the life. The People. Imagine the world without shit like WAR?!! There will be a feeling among the world like the time in the room with the Bootleg Beatles playing All you need is LURVE when everyone stood UP and drifted into their own world full of daises and rabbits and lollipops. I am going TO SPREAD SOME LOVE AND PEACE AND TRY TO SAVE THE PEOPLE ON THIS EARTH! peace. I just hope that a peace resolution will START so I can live in a world of harmony and tranquility.

I wish I could say that I made that up, but unfortunately I actually wrote that once.

But for now, let’s think about T. Rex.

Marc-Bolan-graham lowe

I watched the tribute T.Rextasy- and, of course- being an impressionable 10 year old, surrounded by 40-somethings all singing along to Hot Love (na na na na na na na) I peered about and thought, HEY! This band must be good! There are all these paunchy middle aged people really having a good time! And, although I didn’t know it at the time, I was doomed, as now I would love the music that our Dads listen to, at the age of ten. I was a 10 year old paunchy middle aged man.

Alas, the glittery, shimmering frontman that is Marc Bolan doesn’t make you feel like that. Bolan has the power to take you out of your frumpy little self, and place you into a world where you can do anything, be anything, say anything. His lyrical style is simple, and often nonsensical with favourites such as these:

  • I could never see/The cosmic sea/Was like a bumblebee
  • Me I funk/But I don’t care/I ain’t no square with my corkscrew hair
  • I have never never kissed a car before/It’s like a door

But I still love him. I love him cause of the flamboyance and the ability to make anything sound sexy and wonderful in its own right. Amongst the ‘silly’ lyrics, he really wrote some stuff that tugs at my old and battered heartstrings including one that inspired the name for this blog.

  • You diamond browned hag/You’re a gutter gaunt gangster
  • Book after book/I get hooked everytime/The writer talks to me like a friend

Oh, Marc. *breathes as he does towards the end of Get it On*

Bolan is often compared to Bowie, they’re both similar- yet I can appreciate them in their own ways. Bowie had more of an artistic vision, whereas baby Marc wanted to be famous. And he got really, really famous. The rise of T.rex is often likened to the early stages of Beatlemania, and well- OBVIOUSLY, because have you seen this guy work a stage? REALLY THOUGH? REALLY MARC, YOU’RE KILLING ME

T.rex will ALWAYS remind me of being in my early teens, it’s theatrical and fun and sexy and really, really good music to get ready for a party to, (and then go to the party and still play it all night, slut-dancing with your friends to ‘Well you can bump and grind, if it’s good for your mind’)

However, The Slider as an album means more than the CD of hits, because it sounds so complete, so right, and most of the songs were single releases anyway, so one’s thirst for glam-pop is satisfied.

I would happily travel everywhere listening to this album on a loop, and Ballrooms of Mars maybe is one of the best songs I will ever hear. Oozing with drama (and glitter)

The BEST thing I ever found one day when trying to rearrange LPs is this:



Dad’s graphic/calligraphic artwork on ‘Ride a White Swan’ was drawn when he was 12, which we always joke about as we pretty much heard their music at the same time, so in that respect this band means a lot to me too.

The Slider was all I had to listen to for a while, it was so playable and interesting I only needed that (before I started to listen to Electric Warrior more a few years after- which, is- hjdfkadjh) Like Springsteen’s Born To Run, sometimes you only need one album to listen to- because it just does everything. 100% pleasure.

And finally, my favourite ever quote ever said by anyone, which I apply to my day to day life:

“Rock n roll is a bitch, and you’ve got to come on that bitch” Marc Bolan

Change the words Rock n roll to ‘life’ and you’re guaranteed to have a good time.

Rock on


I’ll always have Paris (or else)

UPDATE: I now have 10 followers! And I’ve had 2 page views from KENYA! Which made me laugh a bit, because one can never imagine what you write hunched over a keyboard in a stinky box room in your tiny house could be read by someone on the other side of the world. It makes me feel very very small.

I want to share some pictures from my recent trip to Paris. I went a few weeks ago, and as I was *on a break* from my blog, I didn’t have this in mind, so there is a lack of ~street style~ and the photographs are more like, “Oh, wow. A pretty alleyway. If I just add a filter this will look less photo, more PHOTOGRAPHY.” (I don’t regret it, I’m more of a note-taker than a picture-taker.

The reason I went is because I’m studying French for my A Levels and for my 17th birthday my mum thought it a good idea to take me to Paris for four days, insisting that I ONLY spoke French (exception: when I talk to her, she’s not French. She kept saying Si. I was all like, it’s just oui.) and ordered meals, bought tickets etc, all in French. I did better than I thought I would, and what shocked me is that people actually speak French outside of my French classroom! I thought this would be a funny anecdote and said it to a few people on return, but noone laughed, just as you’re not laughing right now.

Diary entry for ‘vendredi 5 avril’:

I feel so doomed. I’m in Paris, and I have to go home tomorrow, but I think that if I leave I might die.

PLOT SPOILER: I’m still here, very much alive.

Anyway, for me, I know that I’ll go back- because it felt so right to be there. Sure, all capital cities have that allure- Rome is still my favourite place in the world, but there’s something about Paris. I haven’t quite worked out what it is yet. It’s probably in French, and my French is still too E-grade standard to translate it.

The best thing was stumbling across places without meaning to, like (oh FUCK! This is the Amelie cafe!)

I had to take this picture THREE times, and all times indifferent Parisian waiters nudged past me tutting, ‘ugh filles anglaises’ (this didn’t happen but I felt paranoid)

I think that discovering something new (a place, a band etc) is such a personal thing, for example, my few days in Paris are remembered by moments where I satisfied things I’ve been learning about or singing to every day of my life at home. Joni Mitchell’s ‘California’, opens with ‘Sitting in a park in Paris, France’- so when I sat in a park in Paris, France you can’t even UNDERSTAND how that felt (I know, I’m a moron)

Also, we when we visited the spectacular Musée D’orsay, there was an exhibition of Second Empire furniture, which SOUNDS dull! But boy, it was so rad! I’ve been reading Jean-Paul Sartre’s ‘Huis Clos’ recently- and this is the kind of Second Empire style where my fear and general bad ~vibes~ for this decor came from. It’s just got LAYERS


Near the Sacre-Coeur
If I hadn’t spent all my money on 95c baguettes, I would’ve bought this.


The most idyllic place: AMBIANCE JAZZ COCKTAILS

I honestly feel like I haven’t even touched the surface of this all, I might get around to another post some other time, once I’ve properly listened to the music I bought there and read the books.

What did I wear in Paris? I took no pictures, but I can Polyvore it, and you won’t believe me, but nevertheless I hope you agree with my taste. (This is mainly what I wore, big old secondhand riding jacket and all, and ALWAYS an extra pair of shoes as one simply MUST do in Paris.)

Untitled #4

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Have a good one, X